


Love is a Fried Fish

by TheBobblehat



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, squishy gay elf boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBobblehat/pseuds/TheBobblehat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been months since Fenris and Garrett finally tied up their loose ends. Amidst the chaos of Kirkwall's discourse, Champion Hawke has finally found some semblance of peace in his personal life. But there is still one detail on Hawke's mind: trying to fill his now empty house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is a Fried Fish

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Apparently Fenris actually hates fish. I was not aware of this, but of COURSE I pick the one food he hates... A little edit down below should fix that.
> 
> This is written by someone who has not finished the game, but played all the way up to Act III in a full day's worth (seriously, from 7am to 9pm) of game. I barely stopped to pee. The first mission I did was woo Fenris, so that's as far as I am. Please do not put any spoilers in the comments!
> 
> Dedicated to Kisu-no-hi of Tumblr, whose adorable FenHawke art lead me to buy this stupid thing. 
> 
> PS - Sorry, this Hawke's a non-magical type. I play rogues 8P

"Good evening, serah! Back from your adventures?"

"Yes, though they were hardly adventures today."

"Ah, no dragon slaying? Qun hunting?"

"No. A few murdered pounds from my purse, though."

Bodahn chuckled at his master's jest. He was a pleasant dwarf, his wrinkled face kind and docile. As he stepped through the warm parlor of the estate, he helped Hawke remove his protective armor before toddling off to store it for the night, and Hawke, with less weight on his shoulders, stretched and cracked the bones in his back. He was a tall man: handsome in all respects. His jaw was set and firm, laced with a pointed, well groomed beard. With eyes as clear as amber, a smile came naturally to the man. Sometimes, his defined nose was decorated with a simple strip of red. Hawke insisted it was to help with the glare of the sun. In actuality, he just liked the effect.

"Any letters, Bodahn?" He walked towards the staircase, eager to get out of his sweaty underclothes.

"A few!" came Bodahn's voice. "They're on your desk."

"Thank you." Grabbing a piece of fruit along his way, he spotted Sandal staring at a small pile of rocks just a few feet off. He paused, his smile gracious as he observed. "Working on something new?"

Sandal turned. A slow lad, but sweet. His eyes were as clear and innocent as a child's. Hawke had taken to the boy years ago. They had met on the venture that bought Hawke the home he had now. In lieu of a true family, Sandal was the closest Hawke might consider to having a nephew.

Sandal's smile stretched from ear to giant ear. Taking one of his rocks, he held it up for Hawke to see. Hawke stepped forward, indulging kindly. "Boom!" said Sandal.

"Wonderful," Hawke approved. "Excellent work. Still tinkering with it, are we?"

"Tinker!"

Hawke chuckled. "Right. Keep at it, Sandal."

"Boom."

Hawke then turned, retiring to his bedroom, where a fresh set of finery clothes had been laid out for him. He undressed and wiped the sweat from his skin. It had been hot in these summer days. Even a few hours in the daytime rendered Hawke's body slick beneath his leather armor. Standing in front of his water basin, he wet his black hair, and ran the cloth everywhere from the hips up. Once he was considerably less offensive, he dressed in his home clothes, ready for a nice night in.

A knock echoed from the front door.

"I'll get it, M'ser!" came Bodahn's call. Hawke, with the apple from the parlor, stepped out and took a bite, casually glancing out the window. But his attention was quickly garnered when a very familiar voice answered Bodahn's greeting.

"Hello. Is he home?"

"Yes, serah. He just returned home. Come in, come in!"

The deep, matter-of-factly tone brought a grin to Hawke's lips. A warm sensation spread along his belly, twisting in delightful knots as he went to the edge of the banister. His elbows rested on the railing and he stared down into the parlor. Through the door of the front hallway walked Bodahn. In his company, was an elf whom Hawke knew only too well.

Stepping into the middle of the room, Bodahn stood promptly. "Master Fenris to see you, Master Hawke." 

Fenris turned his head to where Hawke stood. He was dressed in his usual armor, a sword clinging to the strap on his back. Fenris was, as Hawke once drunkenly described to Varric, "frustratingly beautiful." Tall and svelte, Fenris had strange, white swirls that stretched from his chin to his feet, made all the more noticeable with his rich tan. His hair was as white as a summer cloud, with green eyes that seemed endless. While Hawke by now had seen all that there was to see on Fenris, he still thought to admire him every time they met.

They smiled at one another, Hawke taking another bite of his apple. "Fenris," he greeted.

"Hawke." A tiny smile ghosted on Fenris's lips. "Been busy?"

"Hardly. Between the mages and the templars trying to kill each other on a daily basis, what's there to do around here?"

That elicited a chortle from Fenris. Always a good sign. "So nothing planned for the evening then?"

"Not unless something catches my interest." Hawke took another bite of his apple and motioned Fenris upstairs. "Come. Let's get you changed out of that armor."

Fenris obliged, and followed Hawke to his quarters. There, with the door closed promptly, Hawke helped Fenris unlatch the straps on his breastplate. Like Hawke, there was sweat on Fenris's skin from the heat. Once the top half of Fenris's armor had been removed, however, Hawke did not allow him to immediately go for the washbowl. Instead, his sturdy arms wrapped around Fenris's middle, holding him close to his chest. Fenris laughed as Hawke tickled the base of his neck with his scruffy black beard. A few kisses were planted along his skin, the salty taste lingering on Hawke's lips.

"I'm wretched," said Fenris.

"You're delicious."

Fenris actually snorted. "You've always been a man of odd tastes."

"With pride."

Fenris turned in Hawke's arms, hands flat on his chest. "Let me wash first. Then I will let you taste all that you want. On my word."

As much as Hawke didn't want to, he pulled back his arms and held them up. "Go on then. Wash. There are some clothes on the dresser for you. I'll have Bodahn start supper."

"Please," said Fenris. Leaning forward, the two kissed, and Hawke left him to dress.

Dinner was a usual affair by now. Seated at adjacent corners of the dining table, they ate undisturbed. They spoke of light things. Some days, they were not so light. Today, they were gifted with nothing but happy conversation. What their day was like. Who they bumped into at the marketplace. Memories of their adventures in the past. Laughter over things that once brought them sadness or anger.

But finally, the dinner ended. Retiring to the bedroom, they settled on the couch in front of the fire, with a decanter of wine to split between them. With his legs curled up to the side, Fenris had found a comfortable seat against Hawke's shoulder. Hawke's arm was looped around him, one hand resting on his narrow hip. It had taken a few visits for Fenris to grow accustomed to such intimacy. Now, it was second nature.

"Mm." Fenris sighed after a drink of wine. "So much better than the Hanged Man. I can't believe Isabella drinks their swivel."

Hawke chuckled. "Acquired taste, as she said."

"Does one acquire a taste for pond water?"

"Maybe." They fell into comfortable silence for a time, Hawke mindlessly stroking Fenris's arm. Eventually, his eyes turned to the top of Fenris's white hair. "How is the mansion holding up?"

"Well enough," Fenris grumbled. "Avaline and Varric keep trying to get me to move."

A bittersweet smile came to Hawke's face. "Yes, well..." Hawke tucked a piece of hair behind his pointed ear. "They do have a point. Being alone in that house day in and day out..."

"I've grown accustomed to it."

Hawke hesitated. "What if you grew accustomed to something else?"

"Like what?"

"Like... living here, perhaps?"

Fenris paused. He sat up, removing himself from Hawke's grasp. They turned to each other. "This is the third time you've asked."

Hawke shrugged. "You've changed your mind once before. Besides, winter will be here soon. I can't have you catching cold from that old place and being too sick for a day's adventure." 

Fenris smiled. "Of course. You consider what is most important." His gaze dropped. "I'm sorry, but... I just..."

Hawke set his wine glass aside, turning his body fully to Fenris. "I know." Hawke cupped his cheek. "You've been captive all your life. You value your freedom. I understand."

"I just don't want you to think it's a mark against you."

"I don't," said Hawke honestly. "Forget I asked. Here." He slid Fenris closer, their legs overlapping. "I'm contractually obligated to ask you these things."

Fenris laughed and tucked his head into Hawke's neck. "You are a ridiculous man."

"You're just noticing that now?"

"Not at all." Fenris tilted his head up, his flat nose against Hawke's prominent one. Once again, Hawke encased Fenris in his arms. With no blocky armor in his way, Hawke felt the slim frame of Fenris with ease. Eventually, their cuddling lead to kisses. After a bit of shuffling, Fenris ended up sitting on Hawke's thighs. His own were spread on either side, tucked in with his back to the fire. They kissed silently, Hawke threading his fingers through Fenris's snowy hair. Those kisses became less innocent as they went on. Eventually, both of their shirts were shed. Fenris's smooth skin brushed up against the hair on Hawke's chest. Through the thin cloth of their trousers, he began to feel his partner harden. His hand, so wide yet so dexterous, fondled Fenris without shame. The pads of his fingers rubbed Fenris's penis eagerly. He felt Fenris throb against the cloth.

With both men now eager, they left the couch and made their way to the bed. Hawke crawled above him, lavishing him with kisses. Fenris's legs locked around Hawke's hips, their pelvises grinding against each other. Hawke hooked his thumbs into the waistline of the trousers and tugged. They slid from Fenris's thighs with ease and were tossed aside. Before diving into the main event, Hawke slid his lips down the center of Fenris's body, frequently kissing along those swirls of lyrium in his skin. So many times Hawke wanted to comment on the markings on his body. They were tragic in their elegance, twirling on Fenris like sugar trails. But Hawke never dared. Instead, he made love to them whenever the chance arose. Fenris's markings held nothing but horrible memories for him. If nothing else, Hawke wanted to replace the pain with as much pleasure as he possibly could _._

"Hawke..." Fenris's deep voice held the hint of worry. Hawke ignored it. Instead, his lips found Fenris's erection. Without shame or hesitation, he wrapped his mouth around it and began to suck. The deep, growling sighs of Fenris rumbled against him. It was like the earth itself was quaking in joy. Pausing only temporarily, Hawke fished out a tin canister from beneath his bed. Unscrewing the lid, a golden jelly sat inside. Fenris caught sight of it and smiled, biting one corner of his lower lip with anticipation.

Hawke dunked his fingers in the substance and spread Fenris's thighs. With one hand spreading the walls of Fenris's hole, his mouth entrapped Fenris's penis. Both parts of him worked in tandam. Fenris melted like butter.

"Mnn..." Fenris's head tilted back, the tips of his ears reddening. He said no words, as usual. Instead, his voice painted a picture with all that went untold. Soft sighs, moans that elongated and trembled beneath his chest. When Hawke removed his head a second time (but not his hand), he smirked over the quivering elf.

"See?" he cooed. "I told you you were delicious."

Fenris cracked his eyes open. "Strange tastes," he repeated.

Hawke moved back and undid the drawstring on his trousers. With Fenris's legs on either side of his hips, he pulled his taut cock from the front of his pants. It was thick and long, a brown head peaking out from the rough foreskin. In comparison, the lean, pink shaft of Fenris was a complete opposite. A little more jelly was spread on Hawke's penis, and then, carefully, he slid inside.

Fenris tensed, eyes closing. A tiny, short cry escaped him, before cut with silence. Hawke paused before continuing. By the time they were connected at the hip, their lips met with kisses. Hawke let himself settle, one hand clutching Fenris's waist. "Good?"

Fenris nodded. "Good."

Hawke began to rock back and forth on his knees. Their bodies squelched between them. With his spine curled, Fenris's penis bobbed up and down with every sway, gently tapping at his abdomen. Hawke's thrusting was rhythmic and sensual, aided by Fenris's dark voice. But finally, Fenris opened one emerald eye to speak.

"I am not made of glass, you know..."

Hawke laughed against him, their lips locking again in a kiss. "No... No you're not." With his hands and knees getting situated, he began to thrust harder.

Fenris gasped, eyes closing again. His legs raised above them, toes curling in pleasure. Hawke's big body invaded his own in every possible way. It was true what he said once: Fenris had not let people close to him, and with good reason. Frankly, not too many had tried in the past, with a few exceptions. Hawke didn't just get close to him. His penetration was more than the act of sex. It was an intimacy Fenris never thought he'd experience. It frightened and delighted him in turns. It was a violation of his being, and in ways Fenris not only enjoyed, but now invited.

The thrusting grew faster. Eventually, Hawke grabbed the top of his headboard to balance himself. The bed rocked, a leg scraping the floor. Hawke had always been known as being a man of speed and light touch. This was not so in his sex. His actions were final and severe. Like the fatal blow of a warhammer, he landed each one in Fenris, igniting a fire that threatened to burn eternal.

Fenris arched his back. His mouth was agape, arms trembling as he clutched him. While he did not say so, Hawke knew that Fenris was close to his end. He too had nearly reached his peak. Eyes closing, he buried his face into Fenris's chest, and focused all energy into his action.

"Ahh... ha... _ha!_ " Fenris shuddered, his nails digging into Hawke's shoulderblades. His whole body burned, and in one quick spurt, new, fresher white lines joined those on his skin. Hawke, feeling Fenris tense around him, was able to give only one or two more pushes before he too fell victim to his orgasm.

"Ugn-!" Hawke pushed as deep as he dared, his seed now injected into Fenris's body. He settled only a moment, and then pulled out. Hot, white gushings pumped from Fenris's hole, soiling the sheets beneath him. Hawke didn't care.

Hawke fell to his side, their hot bodies cooling as they gasped for air. Fenris smiled, his eyes remaining closed. He wiped sweat from his brow, fingers lacing through his bangs. "Mm... Wonderful."

"Yes." Hawke snaked his way closer, laying playful kisses around Fenris's jaw. Fenris nearly giggled.

"Oaf..." he teased. "It's hot." 

"Yes? And?" 

Fenris had no argument. Hawke peeled his trousers from his legs, and with the air cooling them both, they laid beside each other, wrapped up in the warmth of their love.

~~~~~~~

It was late. The fire had dwindled, so that only a few flickering embers stayed alive in the hearth. The moon slid through the window curtains, falling like powder to the floor. All around Fenris, the mansion slept. Not so much as a floorboard creaked in the Hawke Estate. As Fenris stared at the ashes of the fire, he listened to the deep breathing of the man behind him. Though he tired from that night's events, he did not rest. His mind was far too busy to turn off for the night. He glanced over his shoulder. Hawke was still, eyes closed peacefully. Fenris hesitated before speaking.

"Hawke." Hawke shifted, his brows drawing slightly. "Are you asleep?"

Hawke nestled further into his pillow. "Deeply."

Turning away, Fenris stared once more at the dying hearth. "Why are you so insistent on my living here?"

Hawke paused. His eyes opening, he stared at the back of Fenris's head. "What brought this on?"

Fenris fidgeted where he lay, his ear twitching slightly. "I just... I don't understand the need. We see each other so often. Both in our personal lives and not. I am practically your neighbor. Why is it so important to you that that changes?"

Rather than answer immediately, Hawke threaded his fingers through the back of Fenris's icy white hair. He felt Fenris lean back into it. After a moment, he turned, and the two faced each other. Hawke pet Fenris's cheek with his thumb. "This is true," he said. "We see each other frequently. And these nights are precious to me. But there are days where... I don't know... you're too tired or I am off somewhere without you. And I go to bed with no one at my side. In those moments, I think of you, and our time together. I feel so incredibly lonely."

Those big, green eyes flickered. No one had ever been so honest before. Hawke's words cut him, yet in a way that was not all together unwelcoming. Since becoming free, Fenris valued his solitude. This was something Hawke knew well and respected, but the thought of him alone and pining came to mind. How long had he felt that way? "Did you... feel this strongly after the first time? After I tried to distance myself from you?"

Hawke's smile was weary. "If I say yes, will you torment yourself?"

Fenris felt his heart twist. "Why me? I treated you so poorly. You... you could have had anyone you wanted. Perhaps someone who would have been by your side at a moment's notice."

"You were always at my side," said Hawke. "I might not have been able to be with you in the way I wanted, but I was not abandoned. And for that I'm grateful. Besides, who would I want besides you?" 

Fenris hesitated. "There are others who vie for your affections... You are the Champion of Kirkwall. Countless men and women both would marry you if you asked."

Hawke slid closer. His arms pulled Fenris into his chest, their foreheads pressed together. "This is the honest truth, Fenris. When you left, I was heartbroken. But I never wanted anyone else. From the moment I laid eyes on you, you were the only one I thought of. The idea of finding someone else didn't interest me."

A look of shock came to Fenris's face. He stared at Hawke, as though trying to see through him to find the truth. But the truth, it seemed, was laying right in front of him. His chest trembled, and he turned away. Still, he remained in Hawke's grasp. "It's late," he said, looking away. "We should try and sleep."

Hawke's smile stretched wider. "Yes." He dove forward, wrapping himself around Fenris like a curling vine. His face pushed into Fenris's neck, nuzzling his nose into it. Fenris cried out in surprise, which quickly turned into laughter.

"H-Hawke-! What are you-?" 

"This is comfortable. Goodnight." 

"Like hell!" He laughed again. "That Maker-forsaken beard is scratchy!"

"I thought you liked my Maker-forsaken beard."

"Never."

They looked at one another, their smiles matching. Leaning up, Hawke gave him a sweet, lingering kiss. "Goodnight, Fenris."

"Goodnight, Hawke."

~~~~~~~~

Hawke awoke to the smell of something wonderful. Having been in a deep sleep, he began to open his eyes with his mouth watering. A savory, smokey taste filled his mouth; one that he was unfamiliar with. With his eyes creaking open, he turned to where Fenris had slept, eager to finish off their encounter with breakfast. But when he turned, he saw nothing but an empty pillow. Hawke's heart drooped and he laid his hand on the creases in his sheets. Perhaps hoping for Fenris to go against his nature was childish. Hawke understood his need for freedom. However, it didn't erase the loneliness Hawke felt in his wake. Deciding to push away his feelings, Hawke left the bed and dressed, washing his face and heading out to the rest of the house.

"Bodahn!" he called. "What are you cooking, my friend? It smells delic-" He paused as the kitchen door opened. From it walked, not Bodahn, but Fenris. An apron was tied around his waist, one hand holding a cooking pan. Hawke stood at the top of the stairs, dumbstruck.

"Bodahn and Sandal are off at the market. I hope you don't mind. I needed a few... things."

Hawke shook himself out of his surprise and grinned. "Of course not." He headed to Fenris's side and looked down at the cooking pan. Fried fish sizzled still on the hot metal. Their spices smelled all the more delectable up close. "What's the occasion?"

Fenris tried not to seem pleased. "What? Am I not allowed to cook?" He turned, heading back into the kitchen. "Seat yourself. I'm almost done."

Hawke did so eagerly. Fenris returned moments later with his meal: fried kippers, potatoes and bread. They sat at their usual seats, Hawke not even bothering to wait. The minute his food was in front of him, he took his fork and dug in. Getting a helping of each one, he shoved it into his mouth. Butter and seasonings melted on his tongue. Leaning back against his chair, Hawke removed his fork, savoring the flavor.

"Maker..." he muttered. "This is amazing. I had no idea you could cook."

Fenris took a few bites of his own meal, keeping his eyes downturned. "When I was not fighting, my ex-master would saddle me with household duties. Cooking was one of them."

Hawke took another giant helping, sighing through his nose in satisfaction. "Mm... That bastard didn't deserve your cooking."

Fenris chuckled. "That bastard didn't deserve a lot of things."

His fork aside, Hawke reached out and took Fenris's hand. They looked at one another. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "This was a wonderful idea."

They kissed over the table, and continued to eat, content in each other's company. But a few fried fish was not the point of that morning. Half way through, Fenris set his fork aside and folded his hands in his lap.

"I've considered your offer." Hawke stopped eating and looked to Fenris with surprise. "In fact... I did a lot of thinking about the whole thing."

Hawke felt his heart start to pump in double time. "Oh? What did you decide?"

Fenris kept his eyes averted, the tips of his ears starting to redden. "It's true enough that I value my freedom. You know that. I doubt I can ever live under another man's roof again, just for my own sake. But I..." He paused. "After all we've been through, I can understand why you'd want us to live together." He turned to Hawke, his smile gentle. "So... perhaps not fully, but I could... stay over some days? Do things like this."

"You know it wouldn't be the same, living here, I mean. I'd hold no more power over you than I do now. If you were to live by my side... it'd be of your own free will. You'd never do a single thing you wouldn't want." 

"I know," Fenris responded. "Thank you... But would this suffice for now?" 

Hawke paused. Reaching forward, he took Fenris's hand and raised it, kissing his knuckles like a proper gentlemen. "It's more than I hoped." Pausing, he noticed something odd about Fenris's own plate: it had everything Hawke's did, but no fish to speak of. "Did you get any?"

"Hm?" Fenris looked down at his food. "Oh." With no irony whatsoever, Fenris turned to Hawke and said blankly: "I hate fish." 

Hawke laughed for twenty straight minutes.

 

~~~~~~~

The winter had come a little quicker than usual that year in Kirkwall. The beating hot sun was replaced quickly by blankets of gray clouds. Light clothes were swapped for furs and cloaks. While the world cooled, its problems did not. More often than not, Hawke and his comrades were doing what they could to keep the peace in the self-destructive city. So while Fenris made good on his promise to spend more time at the Hawke Estate, their most recent days were not ample for romance. Which was why, one dreary day, Hawke was so surprised to see Fenris standing at his doorstep.

He stood on the stoop, his hands promptly behind his back. At his feet was a small trunk. If Hawke had to guess, it might have been everything of value Fenris had to his name. Fenris was looking off to the side, his face trying to stay passive. "My roof caved in."

Hawke blinked, one hand resting on the edge of the door. "Come again?"

Fenris shrugged. "The mansion was not in the best of states to begin with. The rain made the wood weak. So, early this morning, it collapsed."

"Are you hurt?" was Hawke's first question.

Fenris shook his head. "It happened in the parlor. I could stay there while workers tend to it, but honestly the draft makes the place unbearable." His eyes flickered to Hawke before looking away. "The... the repairs are thought to take at least a month."

Hawke began to smile. "A month? Sounds like a lot of repairs..."

By that time, Fenris's ears had turned completely red along their top shells. "It was... a bad cave in. So..."

Leaning in, Hawke stopped his face within inches of Fenris's. "Are you asking for room and board, weary traveler?"

Fenris looked up, a tiny smile flickering on his face. "Don't tease me or I'll sleep in the gutter."

"Perish the thought." Standing up, Hawke moved aside.

"Welcome home."


End file.
